What's In a Name?
by SilverTurtle
Summary: It's all about how it's said. Femslash. I now dub them Mozie. One shot. Enjoy.


A/N: I felt like pumping out a one shot for these two before I start the heavier story I have planned. So here's a little bit of fluff for the couple I have dubbed drum roll please! Mozie (how could I resist? I couldn't). Mozie snickers, gosh, I'm such a dork. Oh well, here's hoping it sticks crosses fingers and hopes no one throws rotten food stuffs at me for the cheesiness of it all

Disclaimer: They aren't mine. But I did look them up. Did you know that Christian Serratos is 16 (born 1990)? and Lindsey Shaw is 17 (born 1989)? I didn't know that until I looked them up for kicks. Anyway, there's your fun fact for the day and curse it all they still aren't mine!

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She's the only person that ever calls me Jennifer. After we stopped being enemies we stopped calling each other by our last names. Most people call me Moze, but she always calls me Jennifer.

I'm not sure why. She's never told me. I like that she doesn't call me Moze though. I never know who's talking to me if they start out with Moze; it could be just about anybody. I always know when it's her because my first name leaves her lips and sounds like heaven.

I remember when she first started using my first name. It took me a while to get used to it. I didn't recognize myself as Jennifer; I had been just Moze for so long. It didn't strike me that she was calling me Jennifer until she'd said it crying.

She'd been quiet in all the classes we had together. She just sat staring into space, not speaking, not responding to the teacher, and barely breathing. We had practice after school but we didn't make it. In the locker room I was in the middle of changing, I had just gotten my day shirt off when I heard her. "Jennifer" Her voice was unusually high and it broke over the last syllable, both oddities caused me to look at her. When I saw the tears streaming down her face, eyes red and puffy, and quivering lips I could do nothing but open my arms to her.

I didn't know what was wrong and I didn't care. All I knew was that she had come to me, said my name in tears, and I would not turn her away. So even though I was half dressed and we were both going to get a shouting at by our coach I wrapped my arms around her and let her cry; which she did, at great length.

When the coach noticed the absence of both her captains she came looking for us. We weren't hard to find. Standing between two rows of lockers with her sobbing and me half naked…I'm sure we made quite the scene. Coach was surprised to find us like this to say the least, I was trying to provide comfort but I noticed coach and gave her a look that said 'I-don't-know-what's-wrong-but-I'll-be-damned-if-I-leave-her-like-this!' At least that's the look I tried to project. Coach was flabbergasted but left without comment.

Practice came and went as did the team. We still stood as we had begun, standing with our arms wrapped around each other and me still shirtless. Her tears had stopped some time ago but still she held on. Her arms gripped tightly around my lower back, my arms curled around her back one hand on her shoulder and the other in her hair.

It was an odd feeling having her pressed against my bare skin. I could feel her hands on my back, they were chilled. Her forehead rested on my shoulder and her hair tickled my arm. Her breath was hot against my chest as were her tears. It seemed she either didn't notice or didn't care that I wasn't fully dressed, and I certainly didn't mind.

When she eventually loosened her grip enough for me to breathe properly she finally seemed to notice I wasn't exactly decent. She blushed and handed me the shirt I'd discarded hours ago in her favor. I gave her a look of curiosity as I put the shirt on and she began to explain. Her grandfather had passed away earlier that morning unexpectedly, but because her parents didn't want her to have any more absences they forced her to go to school by driving her themselves. She had been close to her grandfather and this had hit her hard.

While she told me that I held her hand and stroked her hair, trying to lend her strength and comfort (what little I could give). When she'd finished I gathered her in another, considerably shorter, hug and decided then that she would come home with me. And she did come home with me once she'd called her parents to tell them where she'd be.

She slept in my bed that night. What little sleep she got was plagued with nightmares and tears; I know this because I didn't sleep at all. I spent the entire night with at least one arm around her at all times and keeping watch so I could comfort her before things got too bad for her.

Eventually I broke my vigil and fell asleep. When I woke she was mostly on top of me, one arm slung across my waist, the other curled beneath her, a leg on either side of one of mine, and her head nestled into my neck and shoulder. I found that my hands had found their way into her hair and onto her hip, respectively, making my arms a sort of shield against the rest of the world.

I realize that I want to protect her and that I love her. Neither come as a deep shock to me. I'd known I was attracted to her for years now…my competition with her was a shallow cover up for that same attraction. Every once in a while I would slip and let my desire for her show. Like when Ned and I got class couple and Suzie confronted us about it…I was desperate for her to know that it wasn't true, I groped for the words to tell her and they just didn't come, at least not until Suzie had left then out pops "I didn't even know we were going out!" and that was pretty much that.

I let her closer to me than I let any one else. When we were competing to be the best in the clubs we kept getting into physical fights, at least until we found D&D then I just leaned overly close to her. When I got that F on my social studies test and cut out all 'unnecessary' time consumers and she cornered me, grabbed my arm, and touched my hair…I never let people touch me that much. Even now we're lying in my bed all cuddled up is something I would never do for anyone else…well, maybe Ned, but no one else.

She's so warm here. I wish she weren't here under such sad circumstances, but she is here and I will hold her until she tells me to stop. She wakes and looks up…she gives me a sad smile remembering why she's there. I want to tell her I love her but it comes out "Hi". She puts her head back on my shoulder and mumbles "himph"; I'll just assume that was her version of 'hi'. She startles back up and looks at just where she is again, namely on my bed in my arms and on top of me, and her deep blush makes its second appearance.

She tries to move away mumbling an apology but I don't let her go saying "don't be sorry…I'm here for you, whatever you need..." That gives her pause and she settles back into me and whispers "can you just…hold me for a while, Jennifer, please?" I just tighten my hold and she adjusts to get as close as possible, when she sets her head back down she lets out a shuddering breath.

I didn't go with her to the funeral the next week, she hadn't wanted me to. But I was waiting for her when she got back. I had helped set up the wake at her home and she greeted me with a warm hug. I could see that she'd been crying but she didn't seem as upset as that first day.

Eventually her hurt lessened and we went back to our usual behaviors…except that they weren't the same. We'd catch ourselves touching more often, and for longer periods of time, than strictly necessary for two friends no matter how close. After weeks of blushing and avoiding the subject we finally just confronted it.

"This isn't normal is it? All this contact, I mean." she begins.

"Not for friends, no...But…"

"But? But _what_, Jennifer?" There was my name again, popping out of her as though she'd been saying it all her life, it sounded so natural from her.

"But I don't want to be your friend." Wait…that didn't come out right! Oh crap!

"What do you mean you don't want to be my friend! What the hell Jennifer!" God I made her angry, she's so hot when she's mad.

"What I meant to say was…well…I…I want to be your girlfriend. I'm sick of lying…of pretending that I don't have feelings for you, because I do and they are so hard to hide. I stopped trying to fight them a long time ago. Fact is that I've been in love with you for a long time and I just needed to let you know that because I probably won't ever get to speak to you again because you probably think I'm a freak now and" "Jennifer" "don't ever want to see me again but that's okay because I've finally told you how I feel and now with that weight off my chest I can go die in peace" "_Jennifer_" "or wallow in self pity or dream of a day when you actually will want me too and" "_JENNIFER_!"

"What!"

"I do want you. I have since you first let me call you by your first name. Every time I use that name I feel like I come just a little bit closer to you…like...like it connects our souls you know? So just stop babbling Jennifer. You don't need to anymore. I love you and I don't want to pretend that I don't anymore either."

I'm stunned. She's stupefied me again. I hate how she can do that so easily but I love how it only takes her saying my name to make me weak in the knees. "Are you going to kiss me or not?" You bet your ass I am!

And I do. When I pull back I hear "oh…_Jennifer_" coming out a gasp and a prayer and I know I'll never get tired of hearing her say my name.


End file.
